Blindness III: Of Puzzles and Balconies
by zharptitsa
Summary: Third in my Blindness series. John's POV.


**Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who read my last two stories. I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this one out. I've had internet problems and quite frankly this story is from Johns POV and God only knows what goes on in guy's heads cuz I certainly don't which made it harder to write. I'm still not entirely sure it's in character …oh well enough babble…enjoy and review. (Insert favorite disclaimer here)**

John's POV

Do you ever get the feeling that you're trying to put together a puzzle without the box? All the pieces are there, you're just not quite sure how they fit together. I've been getting that feeling a lot lately. So apparently rumors have been going around about me and Teyla. I found out about them earlier today. At first there was only mild surprise that people thought Teyla and I were together but once I started actively listening to the rumors I became amazed by both the sheer variety and number of the rumors and at the fact that I missed them for so long. They cover everything from Romeo and Juliet style romance to swinging from the chandelier style sexcapades. Now that I know why I keep getting these odd looks it doesn't really bother me, in fact they're pretty funny, if only because of how completely off base they are.

There's nothing going on between Teyla and me. Don't get me wrong. Teyla's a wonderful girl. She's passionate, strong, can easily kick my ass and hand it to me on a silver platter, not to mention drop dead gorgeous with a wonderful penchant for wearing revealing outfits. I consider her a dear friend and under any other circumstances I'd be well on my way to being in love with her. But I can't be in love with Teyla because "other circumstances" have a face and a name: Dr. Elizabeth Weir.

I'm not sure when exactly I fell in love with her. She's had my loyalty from the moment she asked me to join the Atlantis expedition, not many people would have taken a chance on a guy with my record, even with this oh so valuable ancient gene. She's had my respect from the moment she took me outside on that balcony and argued with me about sending a rescue team to the wraith ship. She may have disagreed with me but she listened to what I was saying and made damn well sure that I listened to her and eventually we got something we could work with. She's had my friendship since the Colonel Sumner fiasco when she tried to comfort me at the party with the Athosians and then even knowing what I had done she still put an enormous amount of faith and trust in me, placing me in charge of protecting her city.

I know I've never been more impressed by a woman ever. With the exception of her brief stint with Star Gate she's never really had the command of so many people before, and yet it seems as if she were born for this job; military and civilian alike accept her leadership without argument, the only exception being Kavanaugh, (and I'm still trying to figure out a way to string him from a balcony by his ponytail). She inspires a kind of devotion from everyone in this city, and she in turn gives this city everything she has.

I've lost count of the times I've gone past her office late at night and seen her working. And I've now made it my mission to make sure she leaves that office for both sleeping and eating. She's always worrying about something: the Wraith, her people, supplies and general day to day Atlantis stuff, all of which leave me thanking God I don't have her job and watching her for any sign that she's becoming too stressed or tired or worried. It's become the foremost mission of my life, getting her to relax.

Sometimes it's just by goofing off or making faces when she's the only one looking.

More frequently I just drag her out to the balcony. I don't know what it is about it but somehow it seems cathartic for her. Just being out there with the wind blowing off the ocean is usually enough to relax her. Sometimes though the balcony just allows her to talk about whatever the problem is.

I can see why she loves it so. It's breathtaking, this view of the city and the ocean and the sun. Every time we come out here I'm reminded of how beautiful she is and of the first time we were out here and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were flashing from our argument, her hair was blowing in the wind and I remember thinking 'God she's beautiful' and being so surprised that I had missed it till then.

And while I'm still not sure when I moved from caring for her and worrying about her to being in love with her, I know that I first realized it on this balcony. She'd had a bad day and we ended up out here. I managed to get her to talk to me and eventually the conversation shifted to lighter topics; we were joking around and she laughed at something I said and I just knew that I loved her. Since that day I've been trying to figure out what exactly I should do. Sometimes I just want to grab her and kiss her until neither of us can breathe or think. But something always keeps me from doing it. Sometimes it's the thought of our respective positions, the idea that a relationship with me could undermine her in anyway is unacceptable. Sometimes it's the fact that she has Simon waiting for her on earth, she told him to move on, but I doubt he has. How could you ever hope to move on past Elizabeth Weir? But mostly it's the idea that she could do so much better than a washed up flyboy.

And right now she needs someone to be her friend, someone to listen to her. I never forget how lucky I am that she lets me into this world. She's so used to being the strong one, who always knows what to do, that she rarely lets anyone see her as anything else. But for whatever reason she usually lets me drag her out here and she lets me stay as she becomes human and tired and vulnerable. And right now I'm not willing to do anything that might jeopardize that.

Recently though something seems off with her and even on this balcony she won't tell me what's bothering her and as soon as we go inside whatever troubles her is back. She snaps at Rodney and is short with Carson, she avoids Teyla and she won't look at me. And I worry about her, because sometimes I swear I see traces of tears in her eyes….and Elizabeth Weir does not cry.

I don't think anyone else has really noticed though. Rodney and Carson at least act as though nothings wrong, frequently going to her office to babble about their various discoveries, not noticing she almost completely tunes them out, lost in her troubled thoughts. Teyla might know what's going on, though, because Elizabeth is definitely avoiding her. And Teyla keeps getting this odd look on her face. Like she desperately wants to say something but can't decide if she should.

I think it's time I asked her, because this feeling that all the pieces are there and I'm just not putting the puzzle together is beginning to drive me crazy.


End file.
